


Dearest

by sophene



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 18:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophene/pseuds/sophene
Summary: Edward doesn't know how to cope when Batman ignores him.





	Dearest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rainicorn2015](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainicorn2015/gifts).

> This short birthday drabble is for my friend and beta reader Rainicorn2015, possibly the world's most enthusiastic Riddler fan!

Jonathan had lost track of time preparing his latest toxin and looked up from his work when he heard the tale-tell sound of Edward’s feet coming up the attic stairs. Edward reached the landing outside the door and didn’t hesitate in the slightest before bursting into the lab.

There were dark circles around Edward’s glassy, unfocused eyes. His red hair was a tangled, unwashed bird’s nest, and his favorite green suit was wrinkled and stained, the jacket rolled up to his elbows. He looked nothing at all like his usual fussy, impeccably neat self.

“How many times do I have to ask you not to break in here while I’m working?” Jonathan asked him.

Edward didn’t even spare Jon a glance before heading to the window seat and flopping down on it face first.

Jonathan gazed at him for a moment before concluding that Edward wasn’t going to answer his question, then he turned back to his toxin.

He was only allowed to work in peace for about two minutes, however. He was tapping on a syringe full of faintly glowing yellow liquid when he heard Edward sigh.

Jonathan ignored it.

He was filling the next syringe when Edward sighed again.

Again, Jonathan ignored it.

In total, Edward sighed another six times and Jonathan filled ten more syringes before he finally heard a bunch of shuffling behind him as Edward pulled himself up.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong?” Edward demanded.

Jonathan took his time strapping the syringe into his case before he turned his head and looked over at his significant other.

Edward was scowling, his impish face twisted up into an expression of deepest betrayal.

This time Jonathan had to resist the compulsion to sigh. He’d known what he was getting into when he entered a relationship with the showboating narcissist, but sometimes Edward still weighed on his patience.

“What is wrong, Edward?” Jonathan asked, almost in a lilting way, as if he was humoring a pouting child.

The change that came over Edward when Jonathan asked the question was almost instantaneous.

“I’ve been breaking my back getting my latest trap perfect, forgoing meals and even sleep for days in order to get it just right, and what does Batman do? He ignores me,” Edward whined.

“The Joker broke out of Arkham last night,” Jonathan reminded him.

Edward scowled again and spat, “So? I’m every bit the villain that The Joker is. One day Batman is going to regret how he constantly overlooks me. You’ll see, John. Everyone will see.”

There were many things that Jonathan could say. As an academic and a scientist, The Joker was fascinating to him. As a villain, The Joker was, he thought, better off in Arkham. Or preferably dead. So that Batman would set the matter of Edward’s latest trap to the side while he dealt with rounding up the mad clown was, in his opinion, understandable.

But he knew this was not what Edward wanted to hear.

“What sort of trap did you make this time?” Jonathan asked him.

Edward perked back up a bit at the question.

“This one is my greatest trap yet! Remember last time, at the aquarium?” Edward asked.

Jonathan nodded, although truthfully, he had no idea what Edward was talking about.

Talking about his new trap kept Edward preoccupied for some time. Jonathan was able to begin typing out notes on his next toxin release system and only had to grunt occasionally and make a few appreciative sounds in order to keep Edward talking and preoccupied.

Soon Edward had picked himself up off the window seat and was pacing back and forth in Jonathan’s attic laboratory, rambling about riddles and clever snares and trap doors.

Jonathan was still only half listening when he heard Edward’s tone getting petulant again.

“—one of these days he’ll finally see it. Batman will regret casting The Riddler as a B-list villain, you mark my words.”

“Edward,” Jonathan said, without taking his eyes off his computer screen.

“What?”

“Go take a shower.”

This order was met with absolute silence. Edward even stopped pacing. When Jonathan at last looked over at Edward, it was to find him already staring at Jonathan, his eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me?” Edward said.

“You stink. Go take a shower. When you no longer reek, we can discuss methods for drawing Batman’s attention. But I won’t talk to you until you’ve showered.”

Edward said nothing. He glared at Jonathan. Jonathan stared back at him, unblinking.

Edward was the one who finally broke, turning away with a wordless, outraged grunt. He stalked out of the lab.

Jonathan watched him leave, shaking his head as Edward headed back down the stairs. When he heard the shower turn on downstairs, he turned back to his computer and resumed working.

Edward was gone for almost forty-five minutes.

When he finally came returned, his hair was wet and his skin flushed and damp. He’d abandoned his green suit for a pair of Jonathan’s khakis and a green sweater. Both articles of clothing were a little too long for him. The hems of the khakis puddled around Edward’s feet and the sleeves of the sweater were rolled up just enough to reveal his hands.

Without waiting for an invitation, Edward turned Jonathan’s chair and climbed into his lap. Jonathan’s eyes snapped up to Edward’s face, caught off guard only for a moment before his hands settled on Edward’s thighs, holding Edward steady on his lap.

“John,” Edward said, his voice soft. He ran his thin fingers through Jonathan’s hair. “You think I’m scary, don’t you?”

Jonathan stared into his boyfriend’s wide, desperate green eyes.

“Of course, Dearest,” Jonathan said.

“Do you mean it?” Edward asked, pleading.

Jonathan considered the way that Edward had weaseled his way into Jonathan’s plans, his experiments, his laboratory, and finally into his home. As obnoxious as the man could be, the thought of being without him made Jonathan feel a faint pang of anxiety.

“I do mean it,” Jonathan told him.

Edward smiled a small smile, and leaned in for a kiss.

Their lips were about to connect when Edward’s watch beeped.

Edward sat up, frowning down at the watch for a moment before turning to Jonathan’s computer. Without asking for permission, he navigated to his own surveillance system and brought up a series of cameras.

The footage appeared to be coming from the inside of a warehouse. Jonathan didn’t see anything amiss at first, but then, in the corner of one of the videos, he saw a familiar figure in yellow and black.

“Oh,” Edward said, wrinkling his nose.

The figure in the video was The Signal, Batman’s newest protege. For a moment he and Edward watched as The Signal snuck down onto the ground level of the warehouse.

“It appears Batman isn’t completely ignoring your latest trap after all,” Jonathan said.

Edward’s frown deepened and he shrugged one shoulder dismissively, but Jonathan noticed how his eyes didn’t leave the screen and the image of The Signal.

“Did he have to send one of his _children_?” Edward sneered.

Jonathan didn’t respond. He could tell that Edward’s attention was no longer fully or even partially on him.

“Well,” Edward said loftily, raising an eyebrow. “At least he sent one of the smarter ones. If he’d sent Nightwing I’d know what he really thinks of me.”

Jonathan had been beaten enough times by Nightwing to know better than to underestimate him, but again he said nothing. Edward’s eyes were still on the screen, no longer glassy and dull but sharp and glinting.

Without another word, Edward scrambled out of Jonathan’s lap and made a break for the door.

“Try not to get sent back to Arkham,” Jonathan called to him.

Edward didn't stop to acknowledge that he’d heard him, and instead went thundering down the stairs, off to fight Batman’s protege.

Jonathan sighed and shook his head. The least Edward could do was shut the door to his lab on his way out.


End file.
